


And all was well

by Gayboy99



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Game of Thrones Alternate Universe, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Other, Stark Family Reunion, game of thrones season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayboy99/pseuds/Gayboy99
Summary: A partial Stark reunion as I imagined it. Told from both Sansa's and Jon's POV. This was originally posted to my Tumblr.





	And all was well

Sansa:

As my handmaidens synch up my corset, the horrors from last night’s dreams flash before my eyes. Ramsey coming through my chamber door with his sadistic grin painted across his face. “My beautiful wife,” he would say. Each night I relive a different horror as I did when he held me captive. Everyday I thought he would run out of horrible things to do to me, but every night he proved me wrong.  
But now I am awake. In my waking hours, every time something he did comes to the surface of my memory I focus on how he screamed when his hounds took their first bites out of his face. I picture what he looked like when he knew it was all over. He is gone; his memory will fade from history. I only hope the memory of him will fade from my mind soon.  
“Is there anything else we can help you with m’lady? Would you like us to bring you anything?” asks my handmaiden Lena.  
“No, thank you. You both may go now,” I answer.  
As they leave I sit down and begin working on my latest project. It may seem silly, but I am sowing cloaks for all of my siblings, alive, dead, or lost. Winter has come and I only wish they could all be here to wear them.  
Suddenly I hear mens’ voices from below. “Open the gate,” they call.  
Excitedly I run down the stone steps. I wonder who our visitors are, it may only be scouts returning, but regardless as Lady of Winterfell it is my duty to great them. As I approach the courtyard I slow my run to a proper walk. I scan the courtyard to find Jon facing away from me. He is embracing someone much shorter. As I get closer I see unruly dark brown hair and a thin sword strapped to their hip.  
“Arya?” I whisper at first. “Arya?” I yell. Jon releases her and I see her in her entirety.  
After all these years she still has the same eyebrows and the same wild eyes. My sister, after all this time, my sister has come back to me. I will never let her go again.  
We run towards each other and embrace in a mix of tears, laughter, and jumbled expressions of love and happiness. I open my eyes long enough to see beyond the open gates. There I see a pack of wolves stretching as far as my eyes can see. At the center of the mass is a dire wolf…its Nimeria.  
“You have brought the North with you Arya,” I say through tears of happiness.  
There we stand in the middle of the courtyard. The three of us in a jumbled mass, no one wanting to let go. Three Starks in Winterfell, order must be returning to the world. 

 

 

Jon:

Ever since I can remember, the crypts have frightened me. I remember wondering why anyone would ever choose to come down here. It’s a little different for me now, now that I know some of the people down here. My father and Rickon will spend the remainder of time down here. Standing in front of them fills me with a renewed drive. I will do everything in my power to make sure Sansa doesn’t fill her spot down here before her natural time. I will try my hardest to protect Arya and Bran wherever they may be. I promise this in front of my father everyday. I promise in front of where Catelyn should be, that I will keep her children safe. I promise in front of where Rob should lay, that I will lead as he would. I promise in front of Sansa, Bran, and Arya’s vaults that they won’t need them anytime soon. I come upon Rickon, a new set of tears flow down my cheeks.  
“I’m sorry. I failed you brother,” I whisper.  
My aunt Lyanna lies next to Rickon.  
“You are the one who started this all. Well I suppose without you I would never have been born. My father would have never left for battle, so he never would have met my mother…who ever she may be. Still I wish that none of it ever happened. At least that way the rest of my family would still be safe here in Winterfell,” I ramble to myself really.  
I notice that part of the engraving has been covered with a piece of painted metal. The color matched the stone so well I am surprised I even noticed. I remove the flap and it reads: Loving Mother.  
That’s odd, I thought she died before she had any children. My curiosity peaks and I look around for a child’s vault. Perhaps she was with child when Rhaegar Targaryen killed her.  
There wasn’t a child’s vault, but there was a normal sized one tucked under a blanket directly opposite Lyanna’s. I dust off the engraving.  
It reads: 

Joheris Targaryen  
Honorable Man  
Loving Cousin  
Man of the Night’s Watch

It all makes sense now. My father never dishonored his marriage vows to bring me into this world. It was all a lie to keep me, son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen safe. He always said that he would tell me about my mother when I was older. It never made sense to me before how he could tell me that with sadness and love in his eyes. That love wasn’t for some tavern whore, it was for his sister. I had lived my life as a bastard, safe from the truth, but a bastard nonetheless. What would people say if they knew the truth? Could they believe that I was born out of love, or rape? Would they believe my parentage, or see it as a desperate play for power made by a bastard of a dead lord? I cover the vault again. I will have to talk to Davos and Sansa about my discovery.  
Mens’ voices from above bring me back to reality. “Open the gates,” they call.  
We aren’t expecting anyone. They should have waited for my command before opening the gates. I run from the crypts expecting to have to yell at the gatesmen or fend off intruders either physically, or worse diplomatically.  
The only new figure in the courtyard is a small boy with brown hair. He is turned away from me, but poking out from is belt is…needle. The sword I gave to Arya the last time I ever saw her.  
“Where did you get that?!” I yell, closing the gap between the stranger and me in only a few long strides.  
The boy turns around to reveal that he is actually a girl. A girl with the same eyes and feisty smirk that Arya had.  
“Arya?” I breathe.  
“Jon!” she yells as she jumps into my arms.  
I will thank the Gods every day for the rest of my life for bringing her back to me. I don’t notice that I have been crying until I have soaked her shoulder.  
I hear someone come behind me. “Arya?” Sansa’s voice asks. I reluctantly release Arya so she can see Sansa.  
I watch them smiling for a while, but when the man who is on watch comes over to me I ask, “I’m happy that you did, but why did you let her in?”  
We saw that, your grace,” he says pointing out the doors that are still open. “Who else could she have been?”  
Just outside the gates stands a pack of wolves stretching as far as my eyes can see, and at the pack’s center is Nimeria.  
Just then I see Ghost run over to greet his long lost sister. One by one the young wolves are returning to Winterfell.


End file.
